


Primal

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Category: Poltergeist: The Legacy
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-30
Updated: 2010-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:10:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Too ramped up after their son's birth, Rachel and Alex wander out into the desert to find balance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Primal

**Author's Note:**

> Date Written: 29-30 September 2010  
> Word Count: 588  
> Written for: [](http://licenseartistic.livejournal.com/profile)[**licenseartistic**](http://licenseartistic.livejournal.com/)  
>  Prompt: June 2010 :: yell  
> Summary: Too ramped up after their son's birth, Rachel and Alex wander out into the desert to find balance.  
> Spoilers/Warnings: Post-series, so none really.  
> Archive: This is a ShatterStorm Productions exclusive piece. Contact the webmistress for archive options.  
> Link to: <http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/>  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions’ Doggie Duo’s Fanfic  
> Feedback :: Constructive feedback is always welcome.
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is an original work of amateur fiction, and is written purely for the private entertainment of P:TL fans. This story is no way affiliated with Trilogy, MGM Worldwide Television or the Sci-Fi Channel. The characters are their property, and this story is not meant to infringe upon the copyrights of MGM, Trilogy, anybody else who owns an interest in "Poltergeist: the Legacy", or any representative of the actors.
> 
> Author's Notes: I do so love writing this couple. I'm practically the only person writing them, and definitely the only one writing them with any regularity. They're just so damned interesting to write about…
> 
> Dedication: to my muses, even if they are stubborn wenches sometimes…
> 
> Beta: A huge thanks to [](http://shatterpath.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**shatterpath**](http://shatterpath.dreamwidth.org/) for the beta job and the last several paragraphs. You rock, Doggie!

(03-26-04)

Michel is less than a day old and I'm still exhausted, sore and feel like my insides remain jumbled up, but here I am following Rachel out into the desert again. My body would love to kick both our asses for getting me out of bed like this, but I can't let Rachel do this by herself. Gramma Rose's willow bark tea and years of deep breathing exercises keep me on my feet with a minimum of complaints.

Glancing over at Rachel, I fight an amused smirk. She's practically levitating, and if I squint just right I swear there are flickers of lightning arcing off her skin. I almost wonder what would have happened if she'd been the one to carry Michel, since she has been preternaturally attuned to our newborn son practically since his conception.

Once she's walked far enough out into the desert, Rachel turns and spreads out the blanket she brought on a relatively flat rock before helping me settle on it. Her smile is bright, unfettered, even a little manic, as she strokes my cheek and holds my gaze steadily for a moment or two.

"Go on," I finally murmur, leaning up to brush her lips with mine. "You need this, love."

She flushes ever so slightly, pats my cheek, and moves to stand about ten feet away from me. Hands rake through that long blonde mane that I adore so much as Rachel drops her head and takes several deep breaths. I match my love breath for breath, feeling more of the aches and pains of childbirth fade away. At the same time, I can feel my connection to both Rachel and the earth itself growing stronger each moment we sit out here.

The faintest tremor beneath me is the only precursor I get to the sound emitting from her mouth. No, not just her mouth; her entire being exudes the release of sound, of emotion, of energy. A shiver runs down my spine. If I hadn't just given birth so recently, I'd be all over her right now. And yet, as the barbaric yawp continues, a tendril of fear snakes down my spine. The power Rachel has access to is terrifying at the best of times, but I also know, deep in my bones, that she is strong enough to resist the Cantwell curse.

It takes several moments before I even realize that Rachel's no longer making any sound. Blinking against the bright sun, I see she's kneeling on the sand, head down, shoulders shaking. Forcing myself to my feet, I move to her side, touch her hair gently. "Rachel?"

She shakes her head, blindly reaching up to grab my hand tightly. "I'm okay," she finally murmurs. "It just got a little overwhelming, that's all."

This is the double edged sword of this primal desert, the raw power of nature barely tainted by the earth's human children. It sustains us that are more than merely human certainly, but it challenges our control over ourselves. None feel that more acutely than Rachel. My admiration for her never ceases, both when she is so strong, or like now, so very weak. We cling there in the early spring heat, feeling the overwhelming pulse of this great, dry place.

Then, it is time to return to our family once more.

Hand in hand, we dawdle across the sand and I chuckle. "Rachel?"

"Hmm?" she hums carelessly, once more settled in her own skin.

"I feel much better now."

Our combined laughter is not feigned.


End file.
